Chocolate Again
by Brooklyn Mcfly
Summary: 7 years after the Golden Tickets, the four brats revisit the factory for work, stating they have changed there ways. Have they really made a turn for the better? Or are they not to be trusted? M.TeaveexOC and implied VSaltxWWonka. CH 2 UP!
1. The Working Man

My first Wonka fiction. Fell in love with the movie (like everyone else in the universe) and almost NEEDED to write this. I believe this is one of the first Mike Teavee romance related fiction, and I'm proud to be the first! Also the Wonka/Veruca romance is merely fluff attraction, nothing true and pure about that relationship.

I am completely aware that this is a Mary-sue (I am not ashamed!) But I will be trying my hardest to make her not seem like one (although, it is almost inevitable) I dislike Mary-sues as much as the next person, believe you me.

These ideas of the children's selves are based ENTIRELY on my own creation. You may be entitled the think otherwise, it's fine by me! And all characters are of LEGAL AGE, so I don't need any rap for that. : Other than the usual disclaimer, enjoy Chapter 1!

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7 years.

7 years without seeing a single bloody one of them.

It made Wonka, incredibly happy. There was, surprisingly, no lawsuits, no hub-ub. Nothing.

It was fantastic.

He felt an incredible sense of good running through his veins. He changed 4 children's lives for the better. It was like he was doing the world a public favor.

His business was booming, his name was everywhere in the papers (for good things, mind you), and his assistant was the best thing to come across his life EVER.

Nothing was wrong with Wonka's life. He was living large. A perfect, happy, peacefully life.

But not today. Not today.

Outside his giant steel walls amongst the freezing cold ground stood a line of carefully aligned teenagers. Adorned with heavy jackets and worn faces.

To the far left, Veruca Salt. Her hair flawless and her figure exquisite. She was older, she grew into her flesh, accentuated with a fine pale pink sundress and fox fur accents. Boys wanted her, pleaded for her, but all she wanted was a man. A man who can fulfill her diva needs. It was safe to say that no matter how many trips she took down that garbage chute, she would never change her bratty ways.

Next to her, Violet Beuregarde. Her short hair was neatly cut, almost never loosing its shape after 7 years. Her skin was back to a normal pale instead of that hideous blue. She wore her mother's hand-me-down tracksuit and was chewing on the sides of her mouth impatiently. Her mother forbade her to ever touch another piece of chewing gum, and even so, it was almost like her jaw never stop moving up and down, up and down, up and down.

Augustus to her left shot her odd glances. He had certainly thinned out quite a bit since his last trip to the factory, but not enough to consider him permanently thin. His parents had been putting him on a steady Atkins' diet since the chocolate river incident, but his dirty habit of sneaking junk food in from laundry bin was hurting his chances for loosing his so-called "baby fat."

And the tallest of the 4, Mike Teavee stared down at his feet. He looked fairly the same, his jaw line now sleek and firm and his eyes adorned with heavy sleepless bags. No longer the tall, outstretched thin-man, but an average 19 year old boy. He had a noticeably hunch about him, probably from so much video games, and he seemed loss from the world around him. His parents banished a fair amount of television from there home, so he was forced to read and become more in touch with reality, perhaps excluding him further. He was still as sarcastic as ever, but he had more of a reason for it. Now more than ever.

The gates had now opened. But it was much less of a welcome greeting than it was 7 years ago. There were no extravagant pyrotechnics, no colorfully weird song, and no smell of burning plastic. Just a man in a purple suit with a silly hair cut. He stepped out to the doorstep, his shoes tapping merrily along with his cane.

"Well well. Look who we have here?" His voice was soft and sweet, which translated to extremely unwelcoming.

"Mr. Wonka listen…" Veruca began, quickly without a greeting.

"No need my dear, I can only fathom some odd reason for you merry foursome to come back to my factory." He stopped her from going on. A plastic smile on his face.

"Let her talk Wonka."

Wonka looked over to his right, Mike staring at him, the tone in his voice demanding. He merely smiled.

"Yes," he rotated his head back to Veruca. "I suppose it could be a fun and entertaining story, now wont it?" he said merrily.

Veruca narrowed her eyes. "You _know_ what you did to us, Wonka. You made our lives a bloody hell."

Wonka blinked at her foul words. He wasn't one used to facing teenagers aside from Charlie but she had changed. She was a women now, and he knew that child-like overtone wouldn't play well with them.

"I'm afraid I don't understand…" he lied.

"Don't play dumb Wonka!" yelled Violet, "I cant go outside without being called "Blue-berry" or "Blue-girl" or "The Bratty-Blue!" there were tears of anger swelling in her eyes quickly.

"We can't go outdoors anymore. We cannot attain jobs Mister Wonka!" Augustus chimed in with his German accent.

Wonka leaned onto his cane and heaved a sigh. "What happened during your visit, I'm afraid, does not attain to me in any sort of way. Whether you would've came here or not, you were all bound to be revealed for your true ways sooner or later." He stood up straight, "I simply quickened the process." He cracked a hard, crooked smile. It was not received from the children.

"You ruined or lives whether you accept that or not, Wonka." Veruca hissed.

"Well I cant see why you have come back to confront me when the deed has clearly been done." He shook his head confused.

"Give us a job." Mike said blandly.

Wonka twisted his head to the boy, his eyebrows stood up. "Excuse me?"

"You heard him Wonka. Give us a job." Violet placed her hands on her hips defiantly.

"I really don't see how this can help in any sort of way…" he laughed awkwardly.

"No one else will hire us. We need the work Wonka, and its all thanks to YOU." Veruca pointed up at the chocolatier.

Wonky frowned. It was true. He had ruined the children's reputation. Was this karma for his planned punishments from the past? He bit his lip worried. But before he had time to accept the offer in guilt, a candy-colored lightbulb flashed in his head. A smile twisted onto his lips wickedly.

"I suppose I could scavenge up some jobs the Oompa Loompas won't dare take part in, hm?"

The kids winced a tad bit, considering Oompa Loompas take part in almost EVERYTHING they are told.

"Veruca, you may feed and groom the squirrels." Veruca's ears perked up and a look of sheer terror was slapped across her pretty little face.

"Violet will be working the gum chewing wrapped machine." Violet's eyes widened and she started to open her mouth to detest but Wonka quickly interrupted.

"Augustus will be cleaning and maintaining the chocolate river and flying pipes."

Augustus flinched, almost knowing that fate would be coming his way.

"And Mike will be cleaning every television we had just installed in the television room."

Mike looked over his shoulder and growled under his breath.

"Now come along, there's no time for dilly-daddle. Much to do, much to do." He turned on his heel and strode back off into the factory, without a glance behind him. The children shot each other confused stares, shrugged, and followed after their new boss.

Meanwhile, a young sweater adorned Mr. Bucket was escorting a female around the cracks and crevices of the Wonka Factory. She was rather tall, about 20 or so, with eager and cunning eyes. She was no beauty (certainly not, compared to young Veruca) but her wit and sarcasm covered over her physical flaws.

She was young, fresh, and new to the confectionary industry, and was looking to Wonka as a chocolatier mentor. She pulled back her short shaggy brunette hair into an imaginary ponytail and let it fall back over her neck.

"So your telling me I can eat anything in here?" she asked. Charlie grinned and nodded.

"Yes Ms. Corwall. Everything, even me! But that would be referred to as cannibalism." He smiled as she chuckled at his stolen joke. He couldn't remember if that was the exact way Mr. Wonka had told it, but it was enough to make her giggle a bit. He did enjoy seeing others happy.

Corwall smiled at Charlie and nodded her head over to the apples growing from the chocolate trees. "So I can eat those apples right there?"

Charlie shook his shaggy brunette-top-head up and down vigorously. "Oh yes please! Take as many as you like!"

Ms. Corwall smiled and scurried over to the tree, pulling up her billowy black peasant skirt as she hopped over lime flavored bushes. She made a graceful loop around the trunk and came to a halt underneath the brightest apple on the tree. She reached out an arm to grab it, but stopped mid reach as she spotted a man with a purple trench coat in the distance. He looked like he was in very much of a hurry, hustling over the chocolate river bridge.

"No delays my new employees! Makes a bad impression on the boss!" he yipped in a sing-song type manor.

"But YOUR our boss!" Augustus responded back, finding it hard to keep up with Wonka's fast and steady walking pace. Violet had found Veruca to lean on for support as they limped as fast as they could after the nimble chocolatier. Mike, made the rear, dragging his feet, head to the ground from his slouch.

Ms. Corwall smiled with delight. "Mr. Wonka! Mr. Wonka!"

The man with the top hat looked up to find the young woman bounding in his direction. He made a quick stop in his tracks. He cringed. There was nothing more he disliked than meeting knew people.

"Hello…do I know you? Have I won a prize?" he asked, taking a small step back so she wouldn't be in touching distance.

"I'm Ms. Corwall." She held out her hand. Wonka merely looked at it like a strange oddity. She laughed to herself, embarrassed, and cleared her throat.

"I'm here for a job at your factory as an intern. You see, I'm starting a chocolate business of my own and I would love some tips from such a great…"

"If your looking to take my ideas and sell them for profit than I think you're a poo-y cad."

Corwall arched an eyebrow. One for his odd-ball response and second for his use of the unknown word "poo-y."

"Um…no sir, I have no intention for stealing your ideas."

"Oh." Wonka paused, "Well than I'd be glad to take an intern! Just fill out some papers with Charlie and send them down to Delores at the admin office." He smiled half-heartedly and looked back at his OTHER new employees. "Now come along you four, I'll show you to your work lockers." He smiled at Ms. Corwall one last time and walked off towards his purple seahorse boat. Augustus stepped back into life (he was fixated on the chocolate river as Wonka and Corwall conversed) and gave Ms. Corwall a polite nod before following Wonka out. Violet smiled, "Pleasure" and Veruca gave her a snake like stare as they passed to follow Augustus. Mike paid her no passing glance, but gave a small whisper, "I like your bracelet." And treaded off behind the girls.

Ms. Corwall's ears perked and her hand reached to her right wrist, holding onto a black rubber bracelet with small Super Mario mushrooms stamped into it.

"Oh…" the group was half-way to the boat before her brain processed what to say. "Thank you!" she called out. Mike slowly raised up his palm as some sort of acknowledgement and continued forward.

Charlie walked over to her side, hands in his trouser pockets.

"Odd lot, aren't they?" he said.

Ms. Corwall turned her head to him, face confused. "You know them?"

"Yes. They're the 4 OTHER lucky golden ticket winners." He proceeded to point each one out. "Augustus, Veruca, Violet, and Mike." He nodded at his own knowledge of name remembrance and hunched his shoulders up. "Haven't seen them in 7 years. I wonder if they ever really changed…"

"Yeah." She looked to the boat, now being rowed away by a large set of Oompa Loompas. It was painfully obvious, that absolutely none of those teenagers wanted to be there in that boat that day, that minute, that second.

The very same applied to Mr. Wonka himself.


	2. The Television Room

Willy Wonka rubbed his temples.

"Good gravy, what have I gotten myself into…"

He leaned his elbows onto the slate control board. His face slumped into a heap between his arms. The Oompa Loompa next to him (wearing the admin office attire) looked on worried. He outreached a peanut size palm to pat Mr. Wonka on the back.

"Oh it's hopeless! I let guilt get the best of me! They will ruin my factory and put me out of business! I'll have nowhere to live, or sleep, or bathe, or make candy, or bathe…"

Before he could finish his ongoing guilt-fest, the admin Oompa smacked him upside the head. Wonka inched forward making an "oomph" sort of sound, a surprised look on his face. Due to the Oompa Loompa's small stature, the beating was none too painful, just enough to get the point across.

"Oh thank you dear, I was getting a little ahead of myself." He tidied up his hair and dusted invisible dirt from his coat front. His deep purple eyes stared intently at the hundreds of screens before him. All monitors were perfectly aligned in a lovely curvature, each one assigned to a specific room in the factory. The tiny room door was shut close behind them so that the two could have all the privacy they needed. Wonka rubbed his glove-adorned hands together deviously.

"Pull up the Gum Processing Room, would you now?" he asked politely.

The Oompa Loompa pressed a green button closest to him and all the monitors shifted to one camera, creating a hundred-screen viewing surface.

On it, was Violet, her blonde hair tucked underneath a black latex swim-cap. She was facing a large conveyor belt that was slowly spitting out small rectangle pieces. She was wrapping each and every single stick of gum by hand.

Her face was in permanent shock. Her mind in a state of panic. Every time she lifted up a piece of gum to place it into its aluminum wrapper, she stared at it. A few times, the gum was merely inches away from her moistened lips, ready to taste again that bubbly pink flavor.

But before she could ever do such a deed, an Oompa Loompa was close by, watching her every move. She whimpered pathetically as she wrapped it and pushed it back along the conveyor belt.

The suffering in her eyes made Wonka squeal with glee.

"Looks like shes enjoying herself, doesn't it?" he turned a chesire-grin face towards the Oompa Loompa. He did nothing but stare back in disappointment.

"What? It's not my fault that she's not right in the head." He tried to defend himself, tone ridden with innocence. He coughed and looked back to the monitor.

"The Television room please!"

The Oompa Loompa sighed and pressed the yellow button a way up on the colorful control board. The screen made a lovely glittering transition to the Television room camera.

The room was almost plagued with a lonely white. There were no Oompa Loompa's present, just a dull, white empty.

Mr. Wonka arched his eyebrows puzzled.

"Would you mind bringing in the camera just a bit?"

The Oompa Loompa nodded and jiggled the joystick to his left. The camera moved around the room like a stalking panther, searching for any sign of life. Wonka spotted a glimmer to the left.

"Oh there! Point it there!"

The Oompa Loompa pulled the camera into the one TV present in the room. Lounged on its adjacent seat was Mike Teavee. He was slouched far into it, almost as he had been there for hours on end. His face bored and tired, he lazily clicked at the remote, flipping between channels.

Mr. Wonka leaned back into his chair. "Well," he began, "I think we've found the slacker in our group, hm?" he said softly, almost to himself.

Mike heaved a sigh and fell even further into the white seat. "I've finished cleaning them, if that's what your at." He said.

Wonka's ears perked up in surprise. He must've noticed the camera. He squirmed in his chair and leaned into the screen. "Now listen here, you-"

He stopped himself in mid-sentence, realizing Mike couldn't hear a word he was at anyway. He flailed a moment, "Go send some Oompa Loompa's in there and have him get back to work!" The Oompa next to him nodded and hopped from his perch and scurried over to the door.

"Threaten him with a Scozmangler attack if he doesn't budge!" he yelled to the Oompa as he made his way out. Willy Wonka's face was scrunched into a frown.

"Bother." He stated to himself.

Before he could check on the other kids, there was a faint knock at the door.

"Come in…" Wonka responded.

Charlie entered into the room. He held a clipboard close to his chest, a worried look in his eyes.

"Mr. Wonka sir, I came to speak to you about something." He said softly, making his way next to the chocolatier. Wonka waved his palm to the stool the Oompa had once graced.

"Sit."

Charlie nodded and took a seat next to him. "Mr. Wonka, it's about your four new employees." He trailed off, seeing as Wonka wasn't paying quite enough attention to him. His eyes were still fixated on the many screens. Charlie paused and continued talking to (what seemed like) himself.

"I don't feel as if they'd be a good asset to the company, sir."

Wonka had now began to lick the tip of his gloved-finger and polish off a smudge on a small television screen. He worked at is feverishly while the annoyed Charlie continued.

"And quite frankly, I don't think there to be trusted…"

Before Charlie could finish the statement, Wonka had reached over him and was rubbing a thumb across another television screen. His brow was furrowed, "Doesn't any one ever clean up around here. Goodness!"

Charlie was now immensely annoyed. "Mr. Wonka have you heard a single word I've said?" he asked.

Wonka didn't even bother to look at him. "Yes, of course boy. You don't trust them, bad asset, blee-dee-dee-blah-dee-dee-BLORP." He moved two screens up and was now using his elbow to get rid of the large smudges, focused intently on getting the screens clean.

"Well could you at least show some interest sir? I feel like I'm…"

Before another word could escape his lips, Ms. Corwall had just barged in. She was panting heavily, leaning against the doorway for support. Charlie spun around whilst Wonka merely looked and blinked. "Mr. Bucket, the filing cabinets are acting up again." He gulped in some air, "one almost took my pinkie." She lifted up her hand to show the glove she wore missing its last finger.

Charlie sighed. "Looks like there hungry again. I apologize." He sat up and walked over to the door. "I'll take care of feeding the cabinets," he turned back to Wonka, "See if he needs any of your help, would you?"

Charlie stepped out of the room, leaving Ms. Corwall and Wonka alone.

Although she wouldn't admit it, Mr. Wonka gave her the creeps. He was odd and childish and well, just not right in the head. She gulped and (not knowing what else to do) did a little bow of courtesy. Wonka blinked confused.

"No need for Japanese manners, my dear." His confused look now replaced with a smile.

"Is there something you need?" he asked.

She straightened herself up and looked away, as not to make awkward eye contact.

"Well sir, I was just about to ask you the same thing."

When she turned her head back around to see his reaction, she found herself looking to the back of his head. His attention back on the television screens.

"Dear me…" he scratched the top of his head.

On and monitor in front of him was the Television Room again. Still in the same condition, Mike Teavee in the same seat he was in a few minutes ago, and a set of 10 Oompa Loompas tied with a rope in the corner of the room. There faces miserable.

"Looks like I'll need a back-up crew." He turned back around and jumped a bit, seeing Ms. Corwall standing blank-faced in the same spot he left her.

"Oh…" he began, catching his breath a bit, "Your still here…"

She nodded. "Yes sir, I was still wondering if there was anything you needed me to do."

Wonka blinked and turned back to the screen, then back to her again.

"Well, now that you mention it…" he stroked his chin, "There is something I need done, if you don't mind."

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Ms. Corwall found herself being recklessly thrown about the glass elevator. It's rapid downward shifts made her scream out in sheer terror. She tried to hold onto something, but her fingertips merely slipped off the glass like a gecko without climbing pads.

Her ears were now banging as she was sent tumbling down the tower of fireworks. As she tried to readjust her eardrums she was sent zooming to the left and was now smashed up against the side of the elevator.

As the glass elevator made its way to the dome shaped Television Room cell, it made now slow stop, but a quick jolting halt. The door made a cheery ding of "We Have Arrived!" and slid open its doors.

Ms. Corwall clawed her way out back onto solid ground. Her hair a bird's nest and her tank top strap hanging loosely over her shoulder. Her face was in a look of terror as she slumped belly-up onto the ground.

Hearing all the commotion, Mike had looked over his shoulder to see Ms. Corwall in a battered heap. He paid it no mind and went back to flipping through the channels.

Ms. Corwall, slowly beginning to regain her strength, pulled herself off the ground and eased her way to Mike, using the walls as a support system. Her legs still woobly, she didn't make it very far before collapsing to her knees. She slouched onto her bum.

"Christ." She said to herself.

Mike hadn't made a move to help her off her feet, still clicking at the remote with his thumb. The Oompa Loompas (still tied in the corner) were looking on in pain wondering why Wonka couldn't have sent anyone more capable on this rescue mission.

A determined look on her face, Ms. Corwall used all her strength to get back onto her two feet. She breathed a sigh before straightening herself up and walking over to the TV. She stumbled a bit, but made it to her destination, right smack dab in front of the monitor.

Mike's pupils looked upwards to the woman's face.

"Do you mind?" he asked, in a bored tone.

"Actually, yes I do." She puffed out her chest. Ms. Corwall wasn't one to bark orders, she was much more of a follower, but being in front of a peer made it a little more easy on her.

Mike re-adjusted himself in his seat, tucking his legs underneath him. He placed his left elbow on the arm rest and leaned his head onto his palm. He heaved a sigh and lidded his eyes half-way.

"I'm not moving until you do."

Her eyes widened a bit. Was he fighting back?

She put her hands on her hips ( in a fidgeting manor ) "I-it's Mr. Wonka's orders." She stuttered.

Mike's mouth was now covered by his palm, his eyes still on her.

"You can tell him I've cleaned every TV and that there in the boxes in the storage room, just like he asked." He muffled.

Her eyes were now worried. She really wasn't a fan of confrontation.

"But Mr. Teavee, I must insist that you do SOMETHING to please Mr. Wonka." She said, almost begging.

He had now shut his eyes and breathed deeply from his nostrils, like in deep concentration. He opened his eyes again and stared back directly at her.

"Alright. What's he want."

Ms. Corwall blinked in shock, surprised he had given up the fight so easily. She smiled happily victorious.

"Well…well he…" she paused a moment. She had absolutely no idea what Mr. Wonka had intended Mike to do. It hadn't even crossed her mind that she'd get THIS far.

"I'm not to sure." She blushed.

Mike chuckled and rested his ear onto his palm. "Your not so much of an intern, are you?"

She furrowed her brow, "That's not true!" she huffed, face still flushed.

Mike lifted himself from the chair, still chuckling to himself, and walked over in front of her.

Surprised as he was making his way over, she began to inch backwards, nudging the white TV with her bum.

Mike stopped a few inches away from her face. He leaned down a bit to reach her eye level, a vicious smile on his face.

"How bout growing some balls before you confront someone, hm?"

She caught his warm breath on her nose, it smelled of Hot Cheetos. She pawed at the TV with the tips of her fingers, frightened from what he might do to her. She winced a bit, but he merely laughed.

He leaned back up and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"How about I start with freeing those Oompa Loompas." He leaned his head in the direction of the tied tiny men.

Ms. Corwall had opened her eyes cautiously, now seeing Mike at his full height. Her heart was still beating feverishly.

"Y-Yes," she stuttered, gulping down more air, "That would be good."

Mike smiled and stepped off the platform and down to where the Oompa Loompa's were tied.

Ms. Corwall watched him as he knelt down to untie his messy bow-knot. She cocked her head to the side as she gazed at his boxers, imprinted with gray Nintendo controllers. She felt her face grow hot.

The Oompa Loompa's all began to file out of the room (but not before one got a clear shot of Mike's shin. He merely winced in pain) and the boy turned his head back to Ms. Corwall.

"Anything else?" he asked.

She tilted her head back vertically and snapped out of a daydream. Her cheeks tinted red.

_You can kiss me._

"N-No, nothing Mr. Teavee. That will do." She clasped her hands behind her back. What was she thinking? A kiss? She must've been out of her mind. She didn't even know the guy! Her fingers were now beginning to do circles around the others.

Mike used his knees for support and lifted himself from ground level. He fiddled with his spiky hair and the top sprung up in a nice wave.

"Mr. Teavee is my dad. You can call me Mike." He smiled a crooked smile before turning around and striding off towards the glass elevator.

Ms. Corwall's eyes trailed his rear. She bit her lip.

"W-wait!" she called out to him.

Mike stopped mid step. He turned a heal and eyed her intently.

"My name's Shyla." She said, in almost a whisper. Her face still a faint red.

He did nothing but grin, before turning back around and stepping into the glass elevator.

Alone once more, Shyla fidgeted with her skirt. She stepped over to the seat Mike was just in, and sat down herself. It was a rather hard seat, and she used the armrest to find her comfort zone. As her fingers grasped its front, they came in contact with a strange grainy matter. She lifted her palm to spot dots of red Cheetos crumbs.

She blinked and wiped them on her skirt, sighing.

Employee relationships never looked good on a resume.

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Thanks to all who have been reviewing, it's good to know there are people out there who read your stuff!

Next chapter I promise more blossoming romance and a bit more on what the other kids are up to in the factory. So stay tuned!


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